Dragon Fired Crackpipe Visions
by Stick97
Summary: Drabble File! So obviously, there is something seriously wrong with me. I read one little comment on the forums, and voila! Crazy bizarro stuff. Take a look, but I am not to be held responsible if you run out of brain bleach or ruin a keyboard!
1. Crumple Horned Snorkacks Field Manual

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

A/N: A few weeks after the final battle, everyone has been recovering, both from their injuries, and the inevitable hangovers from the celebration over defeating Voldemort. Harry is staying in the Room of Requirement to avoid the crowds, only letting his closest friends see him. Apologies in advance!

* * *

**Crumple Horned Snorkacks Field Manual**

"Harry?" asked Luna, playing with her food as they sat in the Great Hall.

"Yes, Luna?" replied Harry, after swallowing as a gentleman should.

"Would you like to help me hunt for a Snorkack this summer? Now that I am of age, my father has given me my mothers' field manual on the locating, capture, and care and upkeep of them! I'd love for you to help me find one!" said Luna.

"Well, I suppose I could. Ginny is off shagging Dean cross eyed, and Hermione is making Ron her assistant for SPEW, so I do have some free time..." pondered Harry.

"Excellent, although I really think Ronald's poor memory is going to hurt him on that one. He is expecting something entirely different there. Oh well. I am all packed and have a portkey for two. Grab your trunk and we can be off! Hurry, Hurry, Hurry! I only have a limited window of opportunity here!" rushed Luna.

"Wha? But! I didn't agree to" sputtered Harry.

As Luna applied the pitiful puppy dog eyes of guilt and compliance, Harry knew he was outmatched.

"Right, Snorkack hunting it is then. Let me grab my things and we can be off." sighed Harry.

As Harry was headed to the Room of Requirement, a significant change in the current and future order of things was about to occur.

Hermione was sitting at Ron's desk, writing notes about her plans for SPEW, and how they were going to change the world.

"I'm ever so glad you decided to help me Ron! No one else was interested in being a part of SPEW on my behalf" gushed Hermione, writing furiously.

"Right, right! Spew and you! Glad to help!" grunted Ron, as he stuck the sticky copies of Quidditch and Playwizard, as well as several dubiously crusty socks under the mattress. He quickly cast a few air freshening charms, trying to cover the pervasive musty odors of unwashed boy, stale food, and other less savory scents. He looked over to Hermione, who seemed to be reviewing last minute notes before their "meeting".

'Crazy bint tries to schedule everything! Once I get her panties off, I'll teach her the new meaning of fitting me in!' thought Ron with a lusty leer. He quickly shucked off his sweaty shirt and the jeans he had worn for the fifth time without washing. He pulled his skidmarked y fronts down and walked up behind Hermione, slowly stroking himself to attention.

*SNIFF* *SNIFF* "Goodness, it smells like a wet orangutan in here! Don't you boys ever clean in here?" asked Hermione, as she pinched her nose trying not to be sick. She turned to cast a freshening charm to rid the room of the horrendous odor that threatened to cause her to pass out.

In her defense, she was slightly distracted by her planning and thought the *FAP-FAP-FAP* she heard was Ron flipping pages in the reference material from the Wizarding Law book she had asked him to look through.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! There's a mangy, fat orange Wookie loose in the castle! Run Ron! Ruuun!" shrieked Hermione. She was unable to recognize Ron without his clothes on, as his body hair had thickened considerably more than average. Add in the fact he was hunched over with his face in a bizarre rictus of pleasure, and it was no wonder she thought Ron was some sort of beast. She grabbed the book off the desk and swung it at the hideous beast, hoping to stun it long enough to escape.

Unfortunately for Ron, several factors combined at that moment, all of which were not in his favor.

You see, Hermione had been carrying an ungodly amount of books for the past several years almost everywhere she went. While this had given Hermione a well sculpted body and a "cracking arse", it also led to Hermione being considerably stronger than the average witch. Combine this with the fact that the book she happened to grab was the most recent update to the Wizengamot laws, briefs, and addendums, which weighed in at a hefty 3 stone (approx 45 pounds) even with the featherlight charm on it. Hermione had also seen nearly every quidditch match Harry had played in, and had observed the masterful Beater technique of the Weasley twins. Also, due to Hermione's fear of large smelly creatures since her first year, she had a small accidental bout of magic which canceled out the featherlight charm at the moment of impact.

All of these led to the smelly, mangy wook...err Ron, being knocked head over heels and blasted face first into the back wall of the room. Hermione dropped the book and ran like her life depended on it.

"Oh dear sweet baby Merlin help me! Point me Harry Potter!" cried Hermione, thinking that the beast had eaten Ron (or that the cowardly bastard had run off to save himself), and that she had only narrowly escaped. She knew that the only person who she could trust to protect her was Harry.

Meanwhile, Harry had collected his meager belongings, stashed them in his now shrunken trunk, and headed back to the Great Hall to meet Luna. They were at the border of the wards to use the portkey when they heard an extremely out of breath Hermione come running towards them.

"Damn! Lusty idiot must have scared her off! Oh well, this could be interesting as well." grumbled Luna under her breath. "Goodness, she needs a better bra! She's going to give herself a black eye!"

"Huh? What did you say Luna?" said Harry, as he turned away from the amazing sight of Hermione in a full sprint towards him.

"Hmmmm, nothing Harry. You don't mind if we include Hermione as well? My mother had a special section in her manual for exactly this situation. I was going to try the easier sections first, but since she is here..."

"Uh, ok whatever you think is best Lu*WHOOOF!*" Harry grunted as a bushy brown Harry seeking missle impacted on his recently healed ribs. This had the effect of knocking Luna over and all three ended up in a pile on the ground.

"HARRY! Greatbigsmellymangywookie! *GASP!* Ittriedtoattackmeand! *GASP!* Ihititwithabook! *GASP!* andIthinkitateRon! *GASP!*ormaybehejustranoffagain! *GASP* butyouhavetohelpme!" gasped Hermione.

"Wait? What the? Did you say a wookie? Are you..." gasped Harry, trying to overcome the lack of blood to his brain due to being underneath both Hermione and Luna, as well as the fact his ribs were about to crack like a wishbone at a Weasley Thanksgiving.

"Nevermind Harry, Portus!" exclaimed Luna, who had wrapped her arms around Hermione, and hooked her legs under Harry's. As the trio disappeared with the activated portkey, a naked, knobby kneed and wobbly Ron Weasley stumbled out of the Gryffindor dorms and began to wander about looking for Hermione.

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry for the naked wookie! Ron image, but Hermione was determined to not be left behind. What can I say? She is a greedy little witch, and feels she suffered enough under JKR. :)

Also, apologies for the stupid gasp gasp gasp junk, but I just noticed that ff stripped out the whole panicked Hermione thing at the end. This was the only way I could find to get it in there.


	2. Logic Meet the Last Chapter

This came about from a discussion of how the Horcrux in Harry could not have made it over at CaerAzkaban on Yahoo. I know, I know, stop bashing the gingers!

But it's just so much fun!  
I put the specific line in there in italics so you have some idea where the idea came from. Since the posters don't want to be blamed for this I am taking out their names.

_I didn't think that Quirrelmort burning was because the blood protection had an offensive measures to protect Harry (i.e. Harry is in danger, must attack the enemy). I thought that Quirrelmort burned because something so evil could not be in contact with Harry.  
_  
Part 1

"I know Harry, you've been waiting so long for this moment. Finally we are married, and once we consummate the marriage, we'll be together for ever and ever and ever!" gushed Ginny Potter, as she crawled on top of her husband.

Harry was in sad shape, highly inebriated, and severely depressed. He had planned on pursuing Hermione, after finally realizing that he was an idiot, and that he loved her. Then he saw her kiss that damn carrot topped bastard. He also saw how everyone was pairing up left and right. At the rate they were going, he would end up with Parkinson or Bulstrode. After half a bottle of firewhiskey from Ginny, he remembered the Marauder's Map and figured if a ginger was good enough for Hermione, what the hell?

So he had tracked Ginny down and drunkenly proposed to her through the door of the classroom she was in. The door had burst open, and Harry thought for a moment that he must have been outside one of the restrooms, otherwise why would Ginny be straightening her skirt so frantically? The next thing he knew he was pushed into the adjacent deserted classroom, shoved to the floor, and efficiently stripped.

He bit his tongue, both literally and figuratively as he felt the intoxication began to slough off. He could literally feel the magic humming in his body. 'Maybe we are going to fast here?' thought Harry, as Ginny threw her uniform to the floor. His stomach churned, and he thought maybe he shouldn't have drank so much. The fact that Ginny's pale body seemed to be blindingly white was making him squint, which meant he did not notice the green nimbus of energy that suddenly flared into existence around his naked body.

Ginny however did, and as her hair floated on the currents of magic swirling in the room, she was ecstatic. "Oh Harry! Your magic is responding to me! We're forming a soooouuuuul bond!" She clapped giddily, and rubbed her hands together. She straddled Harry and began to sink down on him.

Just before she managed to mount Harry, he reached up and grabbed her by the hips. "Ginny! Shouldn't we take this slow? I've heard a girl's first time can be rather...painful?" asked a concerned Harry.

"Pish, Posh Mr. Potter! Don't worry your adorable little head! Magic will take care of everything! Now while your hands feel nice and toasty warm on my hips, why don't you put them some where a little higher up. Look, I'm all cold up top!" giggled a smirking Ginny. After all, the girl wasn't really lying. Magic had taken care of that little annoyance after her first time with that Ravenclaw back during her fourth year. With that she gave a quick twist, and slid through Harry's hands and down onto his penis.

Ginny gave a "whoof!" as she realized he was much larger than she was used to. Still, he seemed to be burning up all of the sudden. This looked like it would be fun!

Harry was in shock with his eyes closed. 'No wonder the boy's were all so focused on this! Quidditch was nice and all, but this was amazing! It was wet and tight, and warm...well, come to think of it, it was actually rather hot...you know, this is starting to feel a little uncomfortable?

What the bloody hell! That burns!

He'd heard the witches privates referred to as a steamy cauldron in some of those Parchment Perversions he had filched from Hermione's stash during the time in the tent, but this was ridiculous!' thought a panicked Harry.

He froze, unsure of how to deal with the pain he was feeling in his most precious body part.

'Was this all part of some insane bonding ceremony?' wondered Harry. Suddenly he heard what sounded disturbingly like sizzling. 'Was that bacon I just smelled?' thought Harry.

With that Harry popped his eyes open, and saw a sight that justified Obliviation.

Ginny Weasley was astride Harry Potter, and her crotch was literally on fire!

"Bugger this!" shouted Harry as he once more grabbed Ginny by her twitching hips, and proceeded to throw her off and to the side. He grabbed his one true friend, and closely inspected him. Other than some redness and rapidly drying stickiness, everything seemed fine. He looked over at Ginny, who was convulsing on the floor, moaning "Harry! Harry! Soooo hot!!"

Well, she seemed fine, well no more mentally damaged than normal at any rate. Harry grabbed the shredded remains of his clothes, and shook his head in frustration. He grabbed his mostly intact robe and threw it over his head. The fasteners were torn at the top, but at least his todger was covered and somewhat protected. He knew two things.

1. Their was a trip to St. Mungos in his very near future, and hopefully they could cure whatever the hell STD he had just gotten from Ginny.

2. He was going to find Hermione, and get her help at least one last time. Not to mention this could be hereditary! He had always heard comments about redheads and firecrotches, but once again the wizarding world had put proof to the old wive's tales. There was no way he wanted Hermione to be subjected to the horrors he had just experienced!

A/N I thought about killing off Ginny, but then I decided I would probably turn this into a fic. Another part is below. This could be a fun ride. 

The Next bit came about from this...

_ So a magical voice recognition/security system is LESS accurate than a technical one????  
___

Well, considering it's about a thousand years old and unlikely to be made by somebody who had a real in-depth knowledge of magical linguistics, I'd say yes. Plus, there's no real reason to assume he create a totally new voice recognition spell instead of plundering something already known and available (and thus most likely to be designed for recognising words in human/humanoid languages). So it misses out on a language component not known to exist at that time and only works with the part of it produced by the human mouth, a minor subset. And only obscurity and the lack of systematic experimentation hid it as long as it did.

And (this is the part of it I like most) it avoid the "Ron the super parselmouth" issue by having him merely lucky in being able to parrot some sounds correctly.

Omake 2

"Hurry up Mione! I want to get back down there! There was something I really wanted to show you now that we have time!" exclaimed Ron, dragging a protesting Hermione along towards Myrtle's bathroom.

"Honestly Ron! You know I hate that nickname! Besides, shouldn't we wait for Harry? I really think we shouldn't be messing around with some thousand year old charm that was used to protect Salazar Slytherin's private Chamber of Secrets! We may have just gotten lucky the first time! I mean, your brother is always talking about all of the traps and such he has to deal with as a cursebreaker, somehow I think someone like Slytherin would have set up things to keep people out of his affairs more than just hissing "Open" at the doors!" groused Hermione, trying to think of how to get out of this, and break up with the crazy ginger at the same time.

'Really! You would think he would have learned proper hygiene with all of the nagging I have done over the years! Kissing him was like having a rotten calf tongue smeared with cheese sauce and malt vinegar shoved in my mouth. Harry has obviously learned, he always has such nice minty fresh breath. Why, he even made sure to keep up his brushing when we were on the hunt. For that matter, he always would bring back my favorite toothpaste whenever it was his turn to get supplies. Such a thoughtful, caring, sexy...wait! Where did that come from? I mean, sure I peeked occasionally while he was changing, and when he came back from that frozen pond all so soaking wet and shivering, well, if that's what he looks like when he's cold...' pondered a thoroughly distracted Hermione.

So distracted, she failed to notice she had been drug into the bathroom of Myrtle.

"C'mon Mione, let's go down to the Chamber, let's see now. How did it go? It was like a long hiss followed by two shorts maybe?" mumbled Ron.

Hermione felt a spectacular blush bloom across her face, as she realized where she had been dragged. She huffed, wishing she had stayed in that nice day dream at least a few minutes more. 'After all, once she had those wet clothes off of Harry, she did know the best method of preventing hypothermia and frostbite was sharing body warmth, and...What the bloody hell was that ginger moron doing just hissing away over there about! He was ruining a perfectly good daydream yet again!' thought Hermione.

"Honestly Ron, hold on a second! If you are so determined, at least let me set up a recording charm and a auto dictation quill, so we can see what does and doesn't work. I have to admit, I am quite curious if it would be possible to have a written version of the..." said Hermione, as she said the Recording charm, while setting up the quill on a spare piece of parchment to transcribe everything.

"*hisssshiiiisss* Nope, that didn't work either, let's see, *shissssss* damn! Oh wait, I remember it started with more of the hi sound! Here we go now! *hissssshis*" hissed a frustrated Ron.

Suddenly the snake he had been hissing at started to move, and there was a grating of stone on stone.

"There! See Mione! I told you I could do it, old Potter is not the only one who can do amazing things. Ron Weasley is quite the hero today, isn't he? Huh. That's odd. I don't remember the snake looking at me before. Why is it opening it's mouth and hissing at me?" said Ron in a suddenly concerned voice.

Hermione had a bad feeling about this, and began inching away from Ron, who was staring glassy eyed at the serpent that had risen from the sink and was slowly swaying back and forth. She saw the snake rear back and her eyes widened in fear. It was about to attack! "Ron! Run!" screamed Hermione as she fell on her rump, and quickly flipped and began scrambling towards the door. There was a loud grinding noise, and suddenly it was still.

*EEP!* squealed a suddenly quiet Ron.

"Mione? Help please! Say something so it will let go of me! It burns! Spell it off please!" whimpered a shaking Ron.

Hermione shook her head. 'Foolish prat! She had warned him that they should wait for Harry, but Noooo!! Mr Impatient has to run off and not listen to anyone again!' thought Hermione, as she scowled and drew her wand.

She slowly moved from behind Ron to the right side of both him and the sink. What she saw made her knees weak, and she nearly swooned.

The snake from the sink had grown dramatically, stretched out across the distance separating it from Ron, and had attacked the closest point to it. Ron's growth spurt had put him into an extremely bad position. While the snake would have struck both Harry and Hermione approximately in the stomach, well, it struck decidedly lower on Ron.

Ron's face was paler than at any point she had ever seen him. The snake appeared to have struck directly in his crotch. He was shivering, and whimpering, and there was a dark stain spreading from around the snake's mouth.

Hermione was in a quandary. The snake did not appear to be attacking any further, merely content to keep Ron in place. She cast a quick diagnostic charm, and could see that the runes carved on the snake were not something she would attempt to overcome without the help of an experienced curse breaker. It appeared this was merely the lowest setting on it's active defense system. This was merely the 'detain' setting it seemed.

Hermione frowned. But then why was Ron bleeding so profusely? Judging by the blood flow, he was in serious danger, it appeared that the blood would start pooling on the floor at any moment.

"Mione! It hurts! There is this awful burning, and I...I...I... think you need to suck out the poison!" whimpered a pitiful Ron.

Hermione whipped her head back as if slapped!

She was somewhat nauseated, thinking if his dental hygiene was so bad, how awful would his sanitary methods be for down there! Still, he was _one_ of her best friends. She shivered in revulsion.

'Just think of it like Polyjuice potion! Surely it can't be that bad!' thought Hermione, desperately thinking of any alternative. Surely the defense system did not poison it's victims on such a low setting? With a bit of renewed hope, she cast a diagnosis spell on Ron, hoping to see how bad the damage was.

Hermione blinked.

Then she narrowed her eyes, as her mouth set in a thin white line that would have done Minerva McGonagall proud.

'That cowardly, insufferable, depraved, miserable bastard of a wizard! He's not poisoned! Much less even bit! He's merely pissed himself, and by the smell shat himself as well! Not to mention the snake barely has anything to bite in the first place. As for the burning? Well, it appears Mister Faithful Virgin boyfriend has a raging case of gonorrhea, and what appears to be firecrabs!' raged Hermione.

She crossed her arms, tapping the wand on her bottom lip as several possible outcomes ran through her mind.

She shook her head. No use being distracted now!

"Ronnnn, I don't think I can help you, just don't do anything stupid, and I'll be back with Madam Pomfrey or Harry in just a second." cooed Hermione in an overly sweet, saccharine voice. With that, she spun on her heel, and started to stalk off to find Harry. The idiot could wait for all she cared. She frowned and paused.

With a backwards glance, she shook her head. The idiot was poking the snakes' head with his wand!

"Petrificus Totalus! Stupefy!" growled Hermione.

With a self satisfied huff, she began her search.

A/N- Yeah, this has already grown on me considerably. I always thought it was stupid that Ron just went hissing at what was a fairly powerful piece of magic. If I am making a Hidden Chamber of Secrets, you can bet your arse, it will be more than just "Open!" to get in there. And if you screw up?Well. Let's just say Ron only got a taste. Or should that be the snake?

This will probably turn into a long one shot, or part of a larger story. I think I have figured out a way to write things out in parseltongue, and that is actually logical.


	3. The RED Card

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

Dragon Fired Crackpipe Visions

The **RED** Card

* * *

4th year summer after the graveyard scene

_Little Whinging_

"Harry, I want you to have something. It's a box that appeared after your mother died. I'd hidden it in the attic, but I think you need something to comfort you after what you've been through. Here, take it." said Petunia. She handed him a small jewelry box with a lily painted on it. Harry returned to his room, and sat upon his threadbare mattress, shifting to avoid the spring pointing through.

As Harry ran his fingers over the jewelry box, he noticed that the lily seemed to gain depth and substance, and watched fascinated as it began to glow. With a click, the box opened.

Harry looked inside in wonder. The jewelry box was larger on the inside than the outside. It appeared to be roughly the size of his trunk from school. There were notes from school, books, a scrapbook, clothes, as well as a small tray. The tray had both of his parents' wedding rings, as well as some other pieces of jewelry.

There was also a small red card. It reminded Harry of the cards the football referees carried. He picked it up and looked closely at it. One side was simply plain and red. He flipped it over and his eyes widened.

Oh, this had _definite_ possibilities.

Harry had always wondered why his mother had so much respect from Remus, and what had seemed almost like fear at times from Sirius. It appeared she had grown tired of Sirius' pranks, and had retaliated. This card however, was retaliation on the scale of Hiroshima.

She had a laminated gift certificate for a neutering at the Magical Menagerie, with a picture of Padfoot on it. According to the note, all she had to do was activate the card with a "Castrato Canis" and Sirius would lose the boys.

Harry shivered, wondering what exactly had led to this card being purchased, and knew he was in for an interesting next meeting with Sirius.

* * *

_Grimmauld Place_

"Hey Pup! Good to see you! I know the place is a dump, but at least you are away from the blubber twins!" laughed Sirius.

"I'm glad to see you too, Sirius! Lots to catch up on, it's definitely been an interesting summer. My aunt gave me my mom's old jewelry box, so I was able to learn a lot from her notes." said Harry.

"Good, good! Remind me later, and I'll give you a copy of my old Marauder journal. No need to be serious all summer, after all, I should be enough of that for everyone!" chuckled Sirius.

"Don't even start old man!" warned Harry with a growl.

Sirius merely barked out a laugh, and proceeded to ruffle Harry's hair. "You sound just like your mum there, Harry!" said Sirius.

Harry merely raised an eyebrow, reaching for his shirt pocket,and then slightly extracting a portion of the red card. "Funny you should say that, Sirius." said Harry, repressing a smirk.

While Sirius was already pale from being stuck in Grimmauld place, he turned so pale upon the sight of the red card, Peeves would have looked like a chimney sweep in comparison.

With a whimper and a POP! Sirius disappeared from the entrance of Grimmauld Place.

Remus had fallen to the floor laughing, and was gasping and howling with laughter.

The twins were dumbstruck, and Hermione was speechless.

Ron leaned over, looking at the spot where Sirius had previously been. "Bloody Hell! I think he splinched himself!" exclaimed Ron.

Remus was wheezing and shaking his head no. He was trying to say something, but no one could understand him.

Finally, Hermione leaned forwards to look at whatever was left behind by Sirius. Suddenly, she pulled back as her nose wrinkled in disgust.

She exclaimed, "He didn't splinch himself, he shat himself!"

Remus whimpered out, "Just like his mother!" before collapsing once more into laughter with the twins.

* * *

A/N – I have always seen how the Marauders were all so impressed with Lily, and I started thinking. (Always a dangerous thing with me)

How would a intelligent, powerful witch handle a horn dog like Sirius?

Then I saw a soccer game, and the inevitable argument between a player, and the ref. They'll bitch and yell and posture, but 9 times out of 10, that red card starts to peek out?

**Poof!**

No more argument.

As always with these, I may write more, I may not, but at least it gets it out of my system. I am not sure about the last bit by Remus, basically, I was trying to make the point that Harry is acting just like his mother. I worry people may think Remus is referring to Sirius' mother instead though.

(One hint about where I would take this... Think about what most teens do with an old id, and how they are desperate to get a fake id...)

Take a look at my profile, and vote for what you would like to see updated next please!


	4. Flying Beasts

Here I am trying to be a good boy and update my stories when Cal goes and writes an awesome piece about Patroni, Patronus, Patronux...

Glowing magic happy thingies.

And then someone makes a comment about what Hermione's Patronus should have been...

(link to the phenomenal snippet that brought this vision to life yahoo .com/group/CaerAzkaban/message/120077 )

* * *

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

* * *

5th Year

Room of Requirements

Hermione knew she was ready to produce a Patronus. She had read the section of the book detailing what was necessary, listened to the explanation from Harry, and seen the demonstration of Harry's magnificent Prongs.

Quite frankly, she had to! After all as the unofficial CIO of the DA, she was expected to help set proper example for the other students. If she couldn't accomplish it first out of the group, it would seriously

destabilize her position, and more importantly, make Harry look bad.

Cho Chang was already talking to the other Ravenclaws, telling them all how much better at research she was, and that she would be a better helper for Harry. Hermione knew damn well, Cho was only interested in helping herself into Harry's pants. Cho bragging about being able to put her ankles behind ears as a Quidditch seeker stretch she had researched had drawn the eyes of every male in the room, as well as some of the females as well.

Hermione scoffed thinking back to her magical Karma Sutra research she had done with the Patil twins. Being able to lick the small of her own back outshone some cheesy parlor trick of hooking ones ankles behind their head any day.

Shaking her head in frustration, she focused on a happy memory of winning house points from McGonagall, and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her head. She practiced the motion a few last times, and then cast.

"Expecto Patronum!" shouted Hermione, focusing all of her will on being able to cast the spell before her rivals.

A white mist came out of the wand, and started to coalesce into...

"Still can't get the charm, Granger? Maybe you should let a mature witch show you how it's done?" snarked Chang from further down the line of casters.

The mist had started to form, but between the distraction, the embarrassment, and frustration, it had curled back into an oddly shaped ball of energy, and was starting to fade.

'Damnation! I almost had it that time. Focus girl, or you'll be too rattled to even get a mist!' thought Hermione, as she tried to refrain from gritting her teeth. Father always said, bruxism was a sure way to misalign the teeth, or heaven forbid, crack a molar!

"Good! Good! Hermione, you almost have it. This was the hardest part for me. Hold on, I'll help you form the energy." said Harry, drawing the attention of the rest of the DA.

Hermione barely suppressed a squeak as she felt Harry's arms wrap around her, as he pressed up against her back and rump. His hands gently slid down her arms, raising goosebumps as they traveled, and she was unable to prevent a shiver from traveling up her spine. Harry's hands gently covered hers, and began to slowly move them and massage them into the right spot. She could see the ball of energy start to twist in upon itself, growing taller and brighter.

Colin Creevy cocked his head to the side, as he thought he heard a familiar musical refrain. The music seemed to be building, and getting steadily louder. It sounded like a song from a movie his mother liked to watch almost every weekend when he was at home during the summer. Colin looked around and asked no one in particular, "Is that Unchained Melo*URK!*" He looked down seeing a feminine hand firmly placed over his mouth, and tracing the hand back to it's owner, saw Katie Bell. She was flushed, and seemed out of breath. He pointed indignantly to his mouth, and started to politely ask the older witch to remove her hand.

"So help me Creevy, if you make one more noise, I'll transfigure your bollocks into catnip filled squeaky toys for Mrs. Norris!" growled Katie in a low, harsh whisper.

"Shush!" whispered an awestruck Su Li, smacking Colin on the back of the head, without ever taking her eyes off of the impressive magic being performed by Harry and Hermione.

Colin, mindful of his earlier warning, merely blinked rapidly, while trying to cover his crotch with both hands.

He looked around the room, and saw that every witch in the room was intently focused on Harry and Hermione, while the blokes were mostly ignoring the whole scene. Most were still playing around shooting harmless spells at each other.

Hermione was overwhelmed. She could literally feel surges of Harry's magic coursing through her body, and could barely keep her knees from buckling. The energy seemed to run like electricity from wherever Harry was touching her, to her very core, where it found an answering sympathetic echo from her own magic, before inflaming her blood as it traveled down her wand arm and exited out her wand. Her heart was pounding as if she was flying on the back of Buckbeak again, but she felt no fear. Harry was speaking in a low deep voice, almost sub vocalizing, praising and encouraging her. She gave into the urge and let her knees buckle, knowing Harry's strong arms would support her, as she leaned further into his embrace. The magic seemed to be throbbing in time to Harry's pulse that she could now quite wickedly feel, due to how Harry was firmly pressed into her tingling bum. Hermione was doing everything she could not to gasp at the intimate feel of Harry and his magic. She closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in the sensation, as she felt her magic pool and strengthen at the base of her stomach.

"Almost there, Hermione, one strong pulse, and you'll have it!" whispered Harry into her right ear. Her toes curled, feeling his warm breath, as his lips gently brushed the outer shell of her ear. She felt Harry's whole body and magic seem to wrap around and infuse her. She shuddered, feeling her magic seem to explode, as fireworks went off behind her eyes. Her magic combined with Harry's seemed to

literally make her entire body sing, as her body became almost hypersensitive. She had felt something like this before, late at night, alone and behind the closed and silenced drapes of her bed, but it paled in comparison to this. That had been a mere whisper, while this put the Choir of Saint John's at Cambridge, Easter performance of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus to shame.

"Open your eyes Hermione, look! You did it!" cheered Harry, as he squeezed her arms in support.

Hermione opened her eyes, and saw a blindingly white Patronus. It was so bright, she was forced to shade her eyes with her hand. Looking between her fingers, she saw her best friend Harry Potter, wearing only the bottom half of his Quidditch uniform, and that his body had definitely matured since the wintry day he had emerged half drowned from the frigid Black Lake.

Then she had had felt the cold biting into her skin, almost painfully as she had crossed her arms over her chest. She felt a similar sensation now, but it had nothing to do with being cold.

Patronus Harry was still somewhat on the small side, but where Harry had been an emaciated child in fourth year, he now had the lean, taut build of a competitive swimmer. She could literally see an eight

pack, and Harry's shoulders were strong and broad.

Suddenly, the Patronus version of Harry looked directly at Hermione, and tilted it's head as if considering something. With a snap, white feathered wings unfurled from the Patronus' back as it began to fly about the room with a huge grin.

Every witch in the room tracked the flying Patronus with a hungry leer.

The Patronus was doing stunts that put the most terrifying of Harry's stunts on a broomstick to shame. Normally, Hermione would have been terrified, however, at this moment she had something else doggedly running through her mind.

Hermione had never wanted to ride a winged beast more in her life.

Judging from the glazed eyes of every other witch in the room, there would be a new version of "Harry Hunting" going on very soon.

The Patronus flew to the top of the suddenly high ceiling, and then dived down with it's wings folded tightly to it's back. Just as it was about to hit the floor, its wings once more unfurled, and it flew directly at Harry and Hermione.

Hermione's eyes widened, as the Patronus flew directly into her and was reabsorbed by both Harry and Hermione. Both fell to the floor, with Hermione landing on a surprisingly hard chested Harry. She shuddered, and let out a long, happy sigh reveling in the feelings generated by both the Patronus, and Harry.

Hermione spun in Harry's arms, and fiercely hugged him. "Thank you so much Harry! That was amazing!" she gushed. While Harry simply smiled a goofy smile, she quickly rose to her feet, and straightened her robes. Casting a Cannon charm, she announced, "This DA session is over, please proceed back to your dormitories in an orderly, random manner. We will notify you when the next session is to occur as normal through your charmed Galleons."

"What? I was just getting warmed up over her Hermione! Just because you're a bloody know it all who has nothing better to do than study, doesn't mean you can tell us all what to do!" whined Ron. He crossed his arms petulantly, before frowning at the sight of every witch in the room making a rapid beeline for the door that had appeared when Hermione had made her announcement.

They all were quite flushed, and seemed to be breathing hard. Some were dragging their boyfriends out by the hand.

"Where are you all going? I've been waiting all week to practice!" ranted Ron. By the time Ron had finished his tantrum, the witches were all gone, leading most of the wizards to also head out.

Ron huffed, before deciding to head to the kitchen and find a post pre-DA snack, before he went back to the dorms for his pre dinner snack.

"Uh, Hermione? Why did you end the session so early?" asked a now sitting Harry.

"Oh, I have a great deal of planning to do Harry. I need to have everything in order before I move forwards." she casually replied.

"Funny Hermione, everyone knows you had the next three years of this planned out before you even brought this up to me. You plan everything out in advance." laughed Harry, as he stood up, brushing himself off.

"Yes, well as my mother told me, 'No plan survives first contact!', of course I never quite understood what she meant by that until just now." explained Hermione.

"Don't you mean 'No plan survives first contact with the enemy' Hermione?" asked Harry, rubbing the back of his head in confusion.

"Oh trust me Harry, my mother's saying is much more apt in this case." smiled Hermione. "Have to go, I definitely need to research and make sure my protection and defense spells are up to snuff!"

Harry watched her go, and shook his head. "Wasn't that what we just doing?" he asked the empty room.

Fin.

A/N: Yes, Yes, I know OOC, AU, and Patroni are supposed to be animals. Well, Hermione's is, it's her version of a sexy beast. And I strongly suspect if I continue this, she will be making the beast with two backs ASAP with Harry. The protection spells should be obvious, and the defense spells are to defend against Harry all those other slutty witches. :)

So ignore the whole guardian angel thing, and just be glad that I didn't make this into a song fic. :)

I may tweak a few things, but I am pretty happy overall with this. This scene may show up in one or another fics I am working on. If you have suggestions on this feel free.

In all honesty, I think Harry was pretty in character. Remember, you are really only seeing in Hermione's head here. If this was Harry's POV, he would simply be helping Hermione. Just as he has helped countless others with positioning and casting in the canon DA sessions.

He is merely helping and sees nothing to it, at least consciously. The lower reaction, well- teenage boy says it all.

Hermione is not really being slutty in my opinion. Nothing really happens, in an overt sexual manner. It's meant to be more of the crossed legs, rocking foot stimulation than lap dance type thing.


	5. Needs a Title

Got this bunny from Slug over at CaerAzkaban...  
_"I was driving home when this evil little bunny struck.  
Well here it is: 5th year with the dementor attack Harry gets sent to Azkaban due to Dumbledork thinking his "weapon" isnt sharp enough while Hermione gets sent for some other trumped up charges. While being sent there Harry is cursed to have the ashes of all of his prized posesions like his firebolt and his album grafted to his skin. When he is there chains are seared to his wrists as well. Hermione on the other hand gets a "Ridik" type transformation. Enter a goblin type perdiction or myth about chained monsters and shadow fiends and then run with it. Its kind of a god of war and the cronicles of Ridik xover with Harry. make it Harry/Hermione/(more?) and you can pretty much bash anyone you want. If someone can run with this Id be very very happy and thanks."_

At first glance, I agreed with Ethan, that this bunny sounded a little wacky. Then I saw the explanation about the God of War stuff. I really should be working on The Unmentionables, but the crack keeps coming.

Here's my spin on the idea.

* * *

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I make nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing**!"

DFCPV 6

Summer before fifth year.

Harry was chained like some rabid beast in front of the entire Wizengamot. He had merely attempted to defend his cousin and a visiting Hermione from a supposedly Rogue Dementor.

Unfortunately, his Patronus had not been able to protect all three of them. Dudley had been kissed by a second Dementor while Prongs protected Hermione. Prongs had destroyed the first Dementor, but both Harry and Hermione had actually seen the kiss happen to Dudley.

While the kiss sounded painless, both teens had seen firsthand just how horrific a fate the kiss was.

Dudley's soul had literally been torn from his body screaming and desperately fighting. It frantically scrabbled and futilely fought to return to its body, trying to escape damnation while emitting a desperate keening wail. They had both watched in abject horror as the Dementors' scaly and pale, diseased arms had risen and proceeded to flay chunks off of Dudley's soul before consuming them. The wail had become an ungodly shrieking howl that had quickly been joined by Hermione's own screams.

While traumatic to Harry, he had dealt with the macabre and horrifying before. Hermione had heard the stories from Harry, but first hand experience was far more than the poor girl could take. She was far braver than most, and had been a source of strength to Harry when he chased off the Dementors that fateful night by the lake.

Seeing Dudley's soul being violently torn apart was quite simply more than any normal person could be expected to take. Hermione had suffered a traumatic break with reality. She had not stop screaming until the medwitches at St Mungos had finally resorted to giving her a slightly altered Draught of Living Death.

Poor Hermione would just sit there rocking back and forth muttering and occasionally shrieking words.

"NO! Help! Harry, don't let them take Dudley's soul! We'll all die! Stop it!" was what Hermione had screamed initially over and over.

Between the break with reality, and the near overdose of calming draughts, it had become twisted and corrupted. She would now shout nonsense, or the phrase that had been considered the damning piece of evidence.

Hermione's raspy screams of "NO! Don't Stop Harry! Let's take Dudley's soul! We'll help them all die!" had been what had finally led to her being dosed with the modified Draught of Living Death.

It had originally been written off by the attending Head Medwitch as severe mental trauma. Unfortunately, it had been heard by one of the darker leaning Purebloods working in Saint Mungos who had ties to the Death Eaters. He had made a pensieve memory of her screams, and it had quickly been given to Lucius Malfoy. He had gone to Fudge, giving the "proof" of how the mudbloods were actually stealing not only magic, but even the very souls of their own family members. Once this was brought to the attention of the Wizengamot, and fed to the Daily Prophet, bedlam had ensued. Muggles were being attacked in broad daylight, and anything short of the Unforgivables was being ignored by  
the Aurors.

The all too fickle public opinion, had rapidly shifted.

Lucius had come forward, admitting to being a Death Eater, and tearfully explaining how Lord Voldemort had come to him with reports of how the dark witch/part succubus, Lily Evans had corrupted the Potter clan. She had seduced poor James Potter, and had started stealing magic from  
Purebloods, and corrupting those she could. Lord Voldemort had gone to valiantly stop them.

Unfortunately, Lily Potter had sacrificed first her husband, and then her very own soul in an attempt to trap Lord Voldemort, and make her horrible plans come to fruition. The valiant Lord Voldemort had been overcome by her dark magics and underhanded trap, his body destroyed, and his magics absorbed by the demon spawn Harry Potter.

He then explained how during Potter's attempt to take the magic from Cedric Diggory after killing him, Lord Voldemort had managed to escape the unholy prison he had been trapped in these long years. He had been horribly disfigured, and severely weakened, but he was once more free. He had sworn to defeat the Demon Spawn Potter, but Potter had escaped, once more besmirching the honorable Lord Voldemort's name.

Lord Voldemort had been forced into hiding, but with the truth of the Dark Potter coming out, he had sent his faithful friend to spread the rest of the story.

The sheep of London had taken this all in, and totally believed it.

Their were calls for the extermination of all muggles, and even Half Bloods were beginning to be attacked, when Dumbledore had made an agreement with Fudge. Harry and Hermione would be sent to Azkaban, their wands snapped, and all who knew them would be forced to publicly denounce them with a magically binding vow, or be exiled from Britain.

So now, Harry was chained by the wrists to two large pieces of some magically draining metallic stone. He could literally feel the stones pulling at his magical core. He was still in the tattered rags from that day in the alley two weeks ago, and had been severely beaten untold times while in his holding cell. Luckily, Hermione had been under such scrutiny, nothing had happened to her beyond her heavily  
medicated state.

He watched as his wand and everything he owned was thrown into a small pile in front of him. He saw the Weasleys, glaring at him, as Molly shrieked at how she had treated him like her own child. She accused him of corrupting Ginny, and trying to steal her soul in the Chamber of Secrets. Ron had spit in his eye, backhanding Harry viciously before casting a blasting spell at Harry's Firebolt. Ginny was  
holding his photo album, glaring balefully at Harry. Even the twins seemed shellshocked, and unable to believe ickle Harrikins was such a dark depraved demonspawn. Almost all of the professors were there, McGonagall was still shaking as tears poured down her face. She was the most broken hearted, as she had seen Lily as a surrogate daughter.

Snape was even more pale than usual. He came up to Harry, and looked him in the eyes, stating loudly for all to hear, "I knew your mother was a filthy mudblooded succubus, she tried to seduce me and failed. You have proved your evil, and you are truly her dark spawn."

Finally, the Undersecretary to the Minister, Deloris Umbridge, came forth and pronounced the sentence. Harry watched dully, as his wand was snapped and thrown onto the pile. With a harsh Incendio! all of Harry's earthly belongings, every memento, and the last scraps tying him to his parents were set aflame.

Harry screamed out in anger, trying to put out the fire wandlessly, or to pull the precious items out of the fire. A dull aura started to form around Harry, as the chains leached even more of his power from him. He could feel the chains heating rapidly, as the energies coursed through them to the lodestones they were attached to. He ignored the pain, straining with everything he had to try and save something, anything from the conflagration. The manacles on his wrist cut deeply into his wrists, as blood began to drip from the deepening wounds. Harry merely pushed himself harder, as his magic rebelled against this insult.

Suddenly, the lodestones tore from the ground, as the magic overwhelmed them. He managed to push one hand forward, and screamed out a guttural "**Accio**"! The chains were now glowing white hot, and his blood was sizzling on the metal as he stretched out his hand.

Unfortunately, Harry did not specify what he was casting the spell at. The entire roaring bonfire flew at Harry, engulfing him in ash and flame. As the the flames swirled around Harry, he gasped as he felt his body absorbing the ashes of his destroyed possessions. The flames burnt off his hair, pitting and searing his tender flesh. The superheated air was drawn into his lungs, severely damaging his throat and vocal  
chords. Gasps were heard around the Wizengamot, as the flames slowly died out.

Harry's skin was now a ghastly ash grey, and he was left in little more than a loincloth, dropped to one knee. He was bald, and one could see the abuse he had suffered his whole life, and especially these last two weeks.

Whispers of "Demon!" were heard, as Harry looked up with an angry grimace. His eyes were still killing curse green, but against the ash grey of his skin, they were truly intimidating. He rasped out, "I will have my vengeance on all those who have wronged me and mine!" as he coldly stared at all those surrounding him.

Umbridge shrieked at him,"Begone Demon! You have no power, as all of wizarding kind rejects you! We brand you Heretic, and dark demon spawn with your own mark!" She grabbed a glowing brand from a flaming bowl near the Minister's stand. She rushed forward, thrusting the brand onto the left side of Harry's face.

He was so weakened, he could not even pull away, barely able to even gutturally scream as his flesh sizzled against the brand. Finally, Deloris ripped the brand from Harry's abused flesh.

He had a angry red brand of a stylized thick lightning bolt, covering the left side of his face. His eye had not been lost, but he would have to tear apart his eyelid to be able to once more see out of his left eye. The brand had literally melted his eyelid shut, and the agony was nearly unbearable.

Aurors came forward to remove the chains from his wrists, and found that they could not. The metal had cut deeply into his skin, and the heat had literally bonded the metal to his skin. Umbridge merely laughed, telling them to take the lodestones with him, and that if he tried to escape, to push him into the icy waters surrounding Azkaban to let him drown.

Harry merely glared, planning on how to extricate both he and Hermione from Azkaban before the Dementors could hurt Hermione further.

Then he would rain the fires of Hell itself upon the Wizarding world and it's foolish sheep.

* * *

A/N- I definitely will write more for this, but I have to think more on how I want to handle Hermione. I don't see her as a Riddick character (she'd look funny bald and with glowy eyes), but I am not sure how I want to develop her character. I am leaning towards making her take on the characteristics of the power of a Dementor. Fear, chill, etc not the scaly faceless corpse aspect. The other two thoughts I am leaning toward are DC!Amazon!Hermione, or ChainMailBikiniValkyrie!Hermione. All three have their appeal, but will drastically affect the storyline, so it's not just which outfit will Hermione look the hottest in. So please review, and let me know if you have any thoughts as to a title, or which way I should take this. After I get a few reviews, I will post a poll with the top choices.

Not everyone abandoned Harry, but this will definitely be a dark, revenge fic.


	6. Lightning Man Drabble

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

* * *

hmmm, rum sounds like a nice balm for my dragon fire crack pipe burnt lips...

This was a bit I wrote for the excellent Lightning Man Drabble over on Caer Azkaban, 3 or 4 Part Harmony, and seelvorfanfiction yahoo groups. I am going ahead and posting it here, in hopes that it will spur some people to read and dig it up to add to the fun.

* * *

(start bad Irish brogue/)"The Ruminator overlooks the quiet Diagon Alley as he prepares his attack of drunken despair, and hazardous hangovers! For tonight..." whispered Seamus.(/end bad Irish brogue)

"Oh shut the hell up Seamus! Just start spraying everyone down!" hissed Lavender.

The Ruminator glared at his henchgirl, The Leprechaun, as she tapped her foot impatiently. "Fine, but call me by code name!" With that he pulled down the mask covering his face, and walked up to Flourish and Blotts, the home of the boring bookworm, noise complaints, and whining about people pissing on their door. Between being an Irishman, and having these bastards share a wall, his pub had been shut down by the bigoted Ministry.

Losing his bar had pushed Seamus Finnegann over the edge. He had broken all the laws of physics and brewmastery. He had combined his leftover stock with the darkest magics to create an unholy brew. Code named "OSIB" (Oh Shit it burns), the demon liquor was an abomination. Upon impact, it would inebriate even the strongest man. They would lose all inhibition, and bugger any thing in sight.

Luckily, he had managed to pin the charge on Aberforth Dumbledore.

More importantly, the next day, you would have a hangover that would make you beg for death, and a blackout period so strong, that you could pass the Veritaserum test.

Tested first hand when he had been presented with pensieve memories of him "exciting" a goat and then taking turns buggering each other. He had actually been able to prove he had no memories of it, therefore it couldn't have been him.

This had led to several important developments.

1. He now wore a head to toe baggy red rubber jumpsuit. Combined with black rubber gloves, black galoshes, and a black hooded respirator, he was quite the imposing sight. More importantly, he was protected from both the intoxicating fumes and the liquid forms of his revenge.

2. He had obtained extremely embarassing photos of Lavender, forcing her into a willing role as a henchgirl. Although, how she forced her splendid arse into the super tight green short shorts of her Leprechaun outfit was another question. One he frequently ruminated on late at night in the basement lair of his mum's house.

And while he was in the shower, and sitting on the toilet.

Unfortunately, while he had been able to blackmail Lavender into the costume, he couldn't get her out of it.

3. Most importantly, all vengeance now took place around nubile young women, not barnyard animals.

As he kicked in the urine scented door, he began to laugh maniacally, leaning back and holding the rumsprayer over his head. It was an ingenious bastardization of an enchanted keg, a compressed air tank, and the tap from his bar.

Lavender merely facepalmed, wishing yet again, that she had never answered that damnable "Models Wanted!!!" ad on Merlinslist. As she huffed, she watched Seamus running around spraying rum all over the mostly deserted bookstore. Oddly, she noticed that the foamy spray merely slid off the faintly glowing books. It's only effect seemed to be leaving almost waist high piles of foam on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the proprietor step back and touch a rune on the wall behind him. A section of the wall spun around, taking the owner, and leaving a blank wall.

Both Seamus and Lavender missed the dual pop of disapparation coming from the cozy loveseat in the study nook.

Lavender yelled "Hey drunky McGee! There's no one here! And the books are all charmed with an impervious. Can we just get the hell out of here before..."

"How dare you two try and damage these priceless books!" shouted the Librarian, her short skirt flaring, as she spread her legs, placing her fists on her hips.

Stacks stood behind her, glaring and holding a paddle with the word "QUIET PLEASE!" engraved on it.

"Shit!" muttered the Leprechaun.

The Ruminator spun around, in the process spraying all three girls down with his vile brew.

"Goddamnit! This costume is a rental you stupid mick! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get stains out of this fabric?" screamed an enraged Leprechaun. "You are paying me back for the deposit!"

Meanwhile, the Dewey Duo were looking gobsmacked at each other. Both of their costumes were soaked with the icy liquid, and almost transparent. Although both were shivering, they seemed to be getting more and more flushed. Both were starting to lightly sweat, and they licked their lips to moisten them.

"Stacks! I thought I told you to charm our outfits as water resistant!" growled the Librarian.

"Umm, well I did, but they got torn up in our last battle, so I just grabbed our old school uniforms from storage." blushed Stacks.

The Librarian smiled, "Really? Oh thank heavens! I thought I was getting fat! Now give me the Properly Paddle, you still need to be punished for not having spare costumes!"

Stacks blushed, handing over the paddle, but still muttering under her breath, "If someone would stop ripping her shirt apart, and loosing all the buttons, it wouldn't be such a problem."

"What was that Stacks?" hissed the Librarian, as she bent Stacks over, exposing her black knickers with yellow ruffles. She firmly swatted Stacks, nearly causing the squealing woman's breasts to spill out of her too tight shirt.

"Nothing Mistress, I am sorry for failing you." whimpered Stacks, as she shifted from foot to foot trying to relieve the burn in her arse.

"Holy shit! I could sell Pensieve memories of this and be rich! Oh wait! I already am! Guess I'll just keep them for Review later!" exclaimed Lightning Man.

"Glad to see you have learned the importance of studying Sparky!" laughed the Librarian, still swatting Stacks with the paddle.

"Sparky?! What the bloody hell?" cursed Lightning Man, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow at the lack of noise coming from the paddle.

The Librarian smiled, explaining, "Localized silencing charm, keeps the disturbances down for the other patrons. And it's easier to write in my journal than Lightning Man, and abbreviating the name gave me nightmares"

Stacks muttered, "I thought ol' Sparky was your name for, *SMACK!* OW! Damnit that hurt!"

The Librarian glared down at the bent over Stacks, who had covered her mouth with her hand.

"*Giggle*, sorry, think the liquor is getting to me, I get all chatty when I am drunk!" laughed Stacks.

Lightning Man laughed, "Maybe I can find a way to occupy your mouth instead Stacks." Just as he was moving towards the pair, he heard a crash of a toppling bookshelf. Noticing the other pair in the room, he struck a defensive pose. Then he realized that the girl in the Leprechaun outfit was choking the gimp in the rubber suit. "Uh, do you ladies know what's going on over there?"

The two villains were currently rolling about on the floor going from one pile of foam to the next. It seemed like with the restriction of the rubber suit, and the reduced visibility due to the goggles, the gimp was having his arse handed to him. The Leprechaun was definitely not losing any mobility due to her costume.

Maybe some circulation, and definitely any modesty, but not mobility.

"Mmmeic!" came a muffled voice from the filter of the respirator on the gimp.

"Ok you two, knock it off. Don't make me zap you two!" growled Lightning Man.

"MM! MMph mmlmmww mms mll mmp!" shouted the gimp.

"What? Take off that damn mask, no one can understand you!" shouted the Librarian.

The Leprechaun uncoiled the hose from around the Ruminator's neck, as he pulled the mask up, showing part of his sweaty face.

(start bad Irish brogue/) I said 'No, you'll blow us all up!' ya great bloody langers! We're surrounded by liquor, and you want to go firing off sparks! Eejits! You'll fry us all up like a plate a bangers and chips! (/bad Irish Brogue)

Lightning Man looked at the Librarian. "Stop smacking Stack's arse! Did you understand him?" The Librarian shook her head, and resumed fondling and smacking the squealing Stacks arse. Lightning Man shrugged, and said "Ok, I think I understood him better with the mask on, cover him back up."

The Ruminator cursed before pulling away from the Leprechaun and grabbing his weapon. He sprayed the hero with a full blast of the liquor, knowing he would be incapacitated almost instantly.

"Oi! What the hell! I smell like a lush now! What is your bloody problem?" cursed Lightning Man, as he wiped the foamy liquor off him.

"Bu...bu..but you should be hammered! You get a drop of this on you and you should be inebriated! You can't be immune!" ranted the Ruminator.

"Yeah, funny story, turns out I am immune to lots of things. Made for a lot of fun back in my school days when we would celebrate a victory." laughed Lightning Man.

"Inconceivable! Fine, give up or I'll drown your two friends there, and kill off their livers with alcohol poisoning!" ranted the irate Irishman.

"Sorry, I think not. Although, I wouldn't mind getting the recipe. A drunken Librarian looks like fun. I could use this to liven up the meetings, they get so boring sometimes. So many TPS reports" said Lightning Man. With that he apparated behind the Ruminator, and pulled his mask back down. He then pulled the hose from his weapon, and stuck it in the back of the rubber suit. As the suit started to inflate, the villain vaguely reminded Lightning Man of a bizarre starfish of some sort. Watching the villain struggle, and try and turn off the flow of alcohol he turned to the Leprechaun.

"So, how were you not affected by the liquor while the other two were so, well..." asked Lightning Man, as he pointed over his shoulder at the Dewey Duo who were currently entangled on the floor, sans clothes.

"Oh, I took some RU-21 anti inebriation potion. I learned my lesson with this bastard after the first time I met him." laughed the Leprechaun.

"Really, what do you mean?" asked the dashing hero.

"Oh, the bastard took pictures of me after he used the gun on me. I was hammered and he's been blackmailing me. Do you really think I would wear something like this of my own free will?" asked the Leprechaun.

"Well, I could always hope. Hmm, give me a second, and I think we can negate his blackmailing, and we can help each other out at the same time." smirked Lightning Man. He looked over at the drunken, stumbling villain who was trying to cast some odd wandless spell at Lightning Man, shouting "MMadoken!" and trying to push something by the looks of it. He grabbed the villain and disapparated away with him.

The Leprechaun looked over at the two passed out heroines, and rolled her eyes. Lightweights! She conjured a blanket over them and gathered up their clothes. A few minutes later, Lightning Man apparated back into the store. "That was quick, what did you do?" asked the Leprechaun.

"Oh, you'll see. I tell you what, let's grab the girls and head back to my place, and I'll let you see my copy of the Daily Prophet during breakfast tomorrow." replied Lightning Man.

"Breakfast? What makes you think I will be spending the night with you?" asked an indignant Leprechaun.

"Well, you agreed we would help each other out, remember?" asked Lightning Man.

"Well yes, but..." hedged the Leprechaun.

"Come along now, we need to get each other out of these wet clothes before we catch a cold. Besides, I make a mean mushroom omelet. And I always like to have someone to scrub my back, the cape tends to chafe." explained Lightning Man.

"Please, you expect me to fall for such a tired old line like that? All the costumes try that one! You'll have to do better than that!" huffed the Leprechaun.

"Just out of curiosity, why the Leprechaun suit?" asked Lightning Man.

"Blackmail or no, there was no way I would be caught in a rubber suit like the idiot was wearing. I have taste after all!" hissed the Leprechaun.

"Oh, I am looking forward to a first hand exploration of that!" replied Lightning Man.

The blushing Leprechaun giggled, lightly swatting Lightning Man on the chest, which she then took a long moment to admire the firmness of.

"So, you don't have any Irish in you then?" asked a smiling Lightning Man.

"No, why?" replied the Leprechaun.

"Would you like some?" asked Lightning Man with a cheeky grin.

The Leprechaun rolled her eyes, before grabbing the hero's arm as he used a portkey to return them to his secret lair.

The next morning after much blushing, the three girls gingerly made their way out of the shared bed, and followed their noses to the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. Harry plated their food, and handed Lavender a special single run edition of the Daily Prophet.

On the cover was the Ruminator, embracing Bane the centaur, in a magical chapel in Los Vegas. It appeared that they had gotten married in a whirlwind romance, and would be appearing in the magical version of the much rumored donkey show in one of the more risque clubs off the Vegas Strip.

Seamus woke up, feeling like something had crawled into his mouth and died. His arse felt like he had a log jammed up it, and he realized he was in a field, laying next to a horse. He groaned, wondering why he was still wearing his costume.

At the groan the horse next to him shifted, revealing it was a centaur.

"Well, I have to admit, I understand why all you humans are always begging for Horsey rides now."

* * *

A/n- ok. No more drinking while I write. I am swearing off the message boards until I get some of my own stuff caught up. Although I have this urge to go play a certain video game... Hmmm... an Engineer!Harry could be fun...

And to head off any comments about the Irish bashing- I am Irish, so :P


	7. Culture Shock

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

* * *

Harry was eating breakfast in the Great Hall, discussing his homework with Hermione, when all conversation stopped.

A large, morbidly obese redhead was strutting into the hall, looking down his nose at everyone. Harry idly wondered if it was the retarded uncle of Malfoy.

Until the manatee made his way to the Gryffindor table.

"Oi! Budge over Hermsss!" grumped the obese man.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in shock. As the fat man shouldered his way onto the bench, the pair moved apart on reflex. Once they stopped gaping at each other, they examined the interloper more closely.

The fat old man had his hair spiked up in some bizarre manner, with streaks of odd colors running through it. He had some sort of knobby protuberances over his shaved eyebrows, and his nose had a large ring through it. His teeth were filed into points, and he had what appeared to be large hoops in the lobes of his ears. He was covered in all sorts of bizarre tattoos, and was wearing the most bizarre sort of black leather and metal outfit. He had large platform boots with flames on them that matched the colors in his hair, and what appeared to be a aggressive chastity belt on. He had what appeared to be headphones in his ears blasting some sort of loud noise.

The odd fat man proceeded to stuff food in his face at an alarming rate, and they then noticed he actually had a bifurcated tongue when he licked his lips after eating a rasher of bacon. He proceeded to eat everything in sight, and was only distracted by the owls beginning to deliver the morning mail.

"Anything interessting in the Prophet Hermss?" asked the man as he finished off the bacon at the table.

Hermione was in a stupor, unable to form anything resembling coherent thought.

At that, the redhead shrugged and grabbed the post owl, and drew it towards his mouth.

Harry had to laugh as the owl barked at him, before it nipped him hard enough to draw blood.

"Bloody Hell! Ssstupid Owlsss!" cursed the man as he released the owl, licking his injured finger.

"Ron! Language!" hissed Hermione, before covering her mouth in shock.

Every eye at the table went to the fat man in wide eyed horror. Suddenly, underneath the bizarre outfit, markings, and obesity, they could see the hazy resemblance the odd fat man bore to Ron Weasley.

* * *

A/N: I read another fic today on Ficwad, where Harry is raised by someone else, (Tony Stark I think) and he has Harry listening to Linkin Park at 4 (1989 I believe) and shows up to school with the piercings, tatoos, flame hair, and Doc "Martins" that seem to be so trendy in the SI fics.

It reminded me of all the fics we see where Harry goes back in time for whatever reason, and the future Harry body merges or takes over the younger Harry. I wondered what would happen if it was Ron who got the treatment...

Because, let's face it, I don't see him as the subtle type.


	8. Proper Wand Care

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

* * *

Dragon Fired Crackpipe Visions #8

Proper Wand Care

"What the hell do you mean?" asked a paling Harry Potter, wearing nothing more than a thin robe, that exposed entirely too much of his bare arse to the chilly Hospital Wing air.

"Honestly Harry, what did you expect?" asked a flustered Hermione with an irritated huff.

"But...but...that is only supposed to happen to Dark Wizards!" begged Harry, his eyes watering, as he tried to deny his fate.

"Mr. Potter, surely you realized your actions would have ramifications? You can not simply run about, and do whatever you wished without there being repercussions." said Headmaster Dumbledore with his "disappointed Grandfather face #3" in full effect. He shook his head, looking amongst the gathered group sorrowfully.

"I am sorry Mr. Potter, but all the evidence points to you, the fact you came rushing in to see me covered in blood is also not conducive to your argument." explained Madam Pomfrey, as she rummaged through her potions and remedies.

"It's not my fault!" whined Harry looking for some sort of out.

"Sorry mate, it's about as clear cut a case as could be. I thought Bill and the twins were just playing a prank on me when they told me the stories though. I mean after that whole wrestle a troll to be sorted thing, I stopped listening to them for the most part. Never thought I would really see it really happen, let alone to someone I know." said Ron with a shiver, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"I am afraid we will have burn all of your personal belongings and possessions Mr. Potter, we wouldn't want anyone else affected by your corruption" said Dumbledore sadly.

"I used charms though! It should be fine! I should just be able to reverse this!" shouted Harry, becoming more and more desperate.

"Don't think you will be able to talk your way out of this, Potter!" hissed Snape, smirking with a sense of superiority at the spawn of his enemy.

"But everything else in the Potions book worked so well! I don't understand why this one didn't. I mean it seemed to make everything smoother. It said as long as the charm was applied every time, it eliminated any risks of getting caught!" rambled Harry.

Snape's face paled, before turning a purple vaguely reminiscent of a rotting eggplant, mottles and all. "You! You miserable little bastard! I want my potions book back you cretin!" he hissed, spittle flying from his mouth.

"I told you! I told you nothing good would come from cheating Harry!" said a tearful Hermione, shaking her head in sorrow.

"Wait, I used a charm you created? Bloody Hell! No wonder the damnable charm didn't work! It's not like you would would have had an occasion to use it Snivellous!" groused Harry, realizing one more strand of his fragile bridge to freedom just disintegrated before his eyes.

"Now, now Harry, I'll have you know that the charm in question is actually quite effective, why, I taught it to Severus myself. Both he and I can attest to it's effectiveness. For that matter, Severus tells me it is quite popular in the Slytherin Boy's dormitories as well. However, I am afraid you misunderstood it's intended purpose. You see, while it is indeed a protective charm, it does not grant the type of protection you expected or needed. It is merely a charm to prevent abrasion, while adding flexibility and lubrication." said Dumbledore, while twinkling happily and smiling at a still red faced Snape.

"Pup, I thought you and Sirius had the Talk, and he taught you how to use the Potter Family charms?" asked a woeful looking Remus.

"He did Mooney! We sat down and he walked me through everything Prongs did! The press charm, scent blocking, even the blocking charm! I don't know how the hell with all of those charms, everything could go so wrong!" exclaimed a now truly distraught Harry. He had done more than he had needed to, yet still had failed. It truly was all his fault.

"Dammit Padfoot! I hope Lily and Prongs beat your mangy arse for this! You might have ended both the Potter and Black lines with this cock up!" muttered Remus, running his hands angrily through his hair.

"What are you talking about Remus? It can't be that bad, can it?" asked a now deathly quiet Harry.

Remus sighed, before glaring balefully at Dumbledore. "It seems that since a certain, meddling old poof of a headbastard saw fit to leave you ignorant of your heritage in the wizarding world and your responsibility for proper wand care as it were, you are in a world of shit. Of course, I suppose I am just as much to blame, seeing as I kept my head planted entirely too far up this old goat's arse myself. I knew letting Sirius give you the talk was a bad idea. You see Pup, when a man meets a woman..." explained Remus, pulling at his threadbare collar with a nervous look towards Harry.

"I know this part Remus, Sirius explained it just fine. The wizard casts the press charms on his robes, the odor blocking charm on the pulse points, and the sperm blocking charm on the boys! I did that, and even used that other charm every damned time, and I had a line of witches waiting for repeat performances. Hell, once I started using the Black family charm, I almost had to start hiding from the horny minxes!" shouted a thoroughly confused Harry.

"Merlin, you used the Black family charms? Well why in the bloody hell didn't you say so sooner, you berk! That means it's all just a mistake then Harry!" exclaimed a jubilant Ron, ready to dance a jig in celebration.

"Because you carrot topped buffoon! The Black Family charms haven't been updated since the miserable mutt was thrown into Azkaban where he belonged. There are no protections against anything that has been discovered since then!" crowed a smirking Snape.

"Dammit Pup! Did you really use the Black Family charm?" asked Remus, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Lily was going to skin Padfoot, and use his hide for a throw rug if it was true.

"Well, of course I did. Sirius told me it was the reason he was so successful. He said it would make me nice and refreshed." explained Harry.

"Merlin's wrinkled nutsack! That stupid fool. The only thing the Black family charm 'protects' you from is the bird spitting! It changes your essence into whatever flavor the witch most likes! Otherwise, it is useless as a protection charm!" ranted Remus, pulling at his mustache in frustration.

Hermione paled, before surreptitiously wiping her tongue on the sleeve of her robe, before glaring angrily at Harry.

"Protect against what?" squeaked Harry.

"You see Mr. Potter, with the increase in muggles into the magical, along with, well, cross pollination as it were, there has been a rapid increase in both the quantity and variety of Magical STD's. You have contracted a particularly virulent case of crotch firecrabs. Hence the itching, burning, and profuse bleeding" explained a somber Madam Pomfrey.

"But Sirius never had a problem, he seemed fine!" said Harry.

"Really Cub? Didn't you notice him scratching himself all the time? The odd scent of burnt hair around him" asked Remus sarcastically.

"He said it was just fleas!" shouted a blushing Harry.

"Please Potter! Do you really think a wizard couldn't get rid of fleas with a simple Evanesco charm?" asked Snape, seeming to either be trying to pass a kidney stone, or else in an attempt to smile viciously.

"That mangy bastard!" shouted Harry, as he scratched furiously at his crotch.

* * *

A/N: Blame nonjon and The Black Comedy, Harry Potter Hitwizard by Dobby Elf Lord, and Dark King's rant about Harry not screwing everything he could. I like a good smut filled story as much as the next person. But I also have to laugh that for the most part, you never see anyone get an unwanted pregnancy, let alone an STD.

Sirius reminds me of that late 70's "wild and crazy guy" who would shag anything he could. Being in prison all that time means he would have missed out on the more severe Std's especially ones like HIV and AID's. I don't see the WW looking for a cure, when they could just impervious themselves with magic. I also wanted to spoof all of the Azkaban fics where everyone bashes Harry for some supposed sin, or frameup, and then burns his stuff. Here, Harry deserves the bashing, and would you ride a crotch firecrab infested broom?

I have the next chapter of the Unmentionables pretty much roughly plotted out in my head, but frankly, I am somewhat disappointed with the response it has gotten. I am averaging a review per thousand hits, which just seems sad. I am debating shelving it, and trying something with a more obvious plot. I think I am being too subtle in it, and it really isn't getting the feedback I would have expected. Frankly, I can knock out much shorter chapters in one of my other fics, and update more frequently, which seems to be the key to getting reviews.

Or I could just stop being a whiny author and just write. Meh.

Happy Holidays all!


	9. Tool of the Greater Good

A/N: I know, I know! I am supposed to be working on The Unmentionables, but things have been insane to say the least. Then I get on CaerAzkaban, and see such interesting discussions. They led to this, as well as another drabble I am currently working on. Comments at the end.

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

* * *

Grindelwald looked down on his fallen former friend. The fool had actually thought he could best him in magical battle while he held the Death Stick? Sentimental idiot! He had him beaten before he even strolled into his throne room. If this was the best the Wizarding World had to offer, he would reign unchallenged forever.

Unfortunately, the Allied muggle war machine was an unstoppable force. He thought that Hitler and the Axis would be able to destroy the Allied forces with their superior tactics, fanatical devotion and bloodthirsty nature. The magics and enchanted items he had given the Axis leaders had strengthened their hold over their peoples, all while giving him further control over the leaders themselves. He had not initially noticed the gradual descent into madness that all of the muggle leaders had taken. Their decisions had become more reckless, less strategic, and generally foolish. He had cautioned them all against attacking the neutral Americas until the Continent was securely in hand, but the Japanese had attacked the American Pearl Harbor in secrecy. Even now, there were rumors of an assassination plot for Hitler. His spies in the Americas had managed to sabotage much of the work being done, but he knew that the bomb they were working on would destroy whole cities, and shatter any wards and protections he could develop.

Worst of all were the repercussions his hold on the muggles had upon him. He had been able to fight off the worst of it via his Occlumency, but even now he could feel the insanity and paranoia battering the walls of his mind. He glared down at the bearded fool once more. He had allowed him to show romantic interest in him simply to better take advantage of his power. Once he had the Elder Wand he knew he far outstripped the pitiful excuse for a wizard twitching on the floor in front of him. To think the bastard thought he would be able to defeat the Great Grindelwald! He growled, and gathered his energy, feeling his anger swell, and began to cast a curse which would obliterate even the memory of Albus Dumbledore from existence.

Just as he was about to cast, he felt a cool, delicate hand placed on his arm. He felt his mind clear, and the bloodthirsty demand of vengeance recede. Shaking his head, he looked to his love and saw her smile. What was she doing? She of all people should want this miserable bastard erased?

"Love, let us not be too hasty. We have an opportunity here that solves many of our problems. He lies defeated, with all of his barriers down. He once more believed himself the unstoppable force and the righteous Lord of the Light. Let us use him, as he uses those nearest him. Transfer the bindings to him, and use him as the tool he believes others to be. Let him prepare the wizarding world for our rule, and weaken it so that we will be handed the rule we both deserve. Let the muggles grind each other to dust beneath their war machines, as we prepare for a glorious unending reign." purred his mate, smiling maliciously down at the fallen leader of the light.

Grindelwald mirrored her expression. She was his greatest achievement, his grandest victory, and the only truly valuable thing he had taken from the British Isle. Best of all, she had done it all of her own free will.

He looked down upon the bleeding wizard, and called one of his drones in. He went into Dumbledore's mind easily, not even needing to use the failsafe back doors he had installed so long ago, the man was so soundly defeated. He placed the triggers, commands, and compulsions freely and solidly locked the binding of the cursed control devices to the wizard. As long as they were in place, he would be even more weakened, not truly knowing why his magic was so drained and weakened, thinking it all due to his duel with Grindelwald. Grindelwald would still control the leaders of the Axis, leading them further to destruction, and ensuring all of the wizards who had been long term threats to his reign were lost in battles they could not hope to win. The two strongest enclaves of Japanese magic users would be targeted via his spies in the Americas and their bombs. He would use Dumbledore to weaken the education system of Britain and Europe as a whole, while his "victory" would see him gain even more power over the rest of the Wizarding World as a whole. All the while, Dumbledore would continue to ruthlessly sacrifice the good, protecting the evil, and progressing Grindelwald's plans for his "Greater Good".

He laughed, and cast a permanent Transfiguration upon his drone, turning him into a copy of himself. He picked up Dumbledore's wand cast a few spells, wounding his copy and knocking him unconscious with an overpowered Expeliarmus. He then placed the Elder Wand in the hand of his new tool. Few realized, that as long as the holder of the Death Stick was not defeated or had the wand directly taken from them, he remained the owner of the wand. He would allow Dumbledore to hold the wand for him and use it's strength, as he would still be doing Gridelwald's will after all.

More importantly, Grindewald could no longer have the wand taken from him, as it would not be in his possession. He would still be unbeatable, as it's Master. Best of all, even if Dumbledore was defeated, he would still be able to call the wand to his hand. Smiling once more, he watched his love kick Dumbledore squarely in the bits, laughing at her comment of "to reinforce the confusion".

Now which of his false identities should he assume while he watched Dumbledore destroy the Wizarding World and prepare it for his ascension?

Best to ask his partner. She always had the best schemes and manipulations, and my, how vengeful and cunning she was!

"Come along Ariana, we have places to be!" laughed Gellert Grindelwald, as his wife reinforced her wishes once more with a vicious kick, and a sweet kiss blown to her fallen brother. Gellert transformed into his Animagus form of a red Phoenix and flashed the pair away from the ruined throneroom.

* * *

A/N: I think I set this up pretty well. It could easily be a long fic, and I have a few interesting ideas as to who the alternate identities of the diabolical duo could be. I think most would agree that Dumbles was a manipulative bastard. But what if someone was pulling the strings so to speak? Was anyone surprised at who the mate of Gellert was? I just like the idea of him taking advantage of Albus attraction, Obliviating the two brothers and running away with Ariana. Let me know what you think.


	10. Sleight of Hand

A/N: So you guys can blame Clell and Vern over at Caer for this bunny. :)  
Clell for Triwizard Tournament and his lying, intelligent, funny as hell Harry. Plus the whole Vernon being a liar of win!  
Vern for the whole bit talking about not being able to figure out who the hell is talking. Not sure if I will just do snippets here and there, or write a whole seven books, but this could be a fun Harry to say the least.  
And to keep the bleachiness down to a minimum, this is a younger, healthier, less stressed, jaded, and bitter Vernon and Petunia. Just to set the stage.

* * *

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I make nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing**!"

* * *

#4 Privet Drive, Surrey.

"I'm exhausted Tuney, the flight was a bear, but I have to admit, I am glad I went to that conference in Las Vegas. I hated being away from you and Dudders for Halloween, but it was worth it. I closed several new accounts, and got to entertain like a king thanks to the corporate card. I must say Pet, that Harry Blackstone Jr. bloke was amazing. No Paul Daniels, mind you, but quite the showman. Grunnings bought us all front row seats, the VIP treatment and backstage passes. The works! I actually got to speak with the man after the show, and he told me how he had parlayed a little talent for misdirection into an empire. He agreed with me that magic is all a bunch of hooey and freakishness, and that he was an Illusionist. He is as rich as Midas, plus he gets the respect and admiration of all sorts of people. He's met the Iron Lady, and performed magic for the Queen Mum as well. Plus he is surrounded by the most beautiful birds all the time! He even gave me a signed Illusionist's starter set for Dudders! Maybe we can have Dudder's take after him? Maybe he can make a few Aston Martin's appear in his dear old Dad's driveway." laughed Vernon, as he swung Dudley around in a circle, happy to see his son and wife once more. He ignored the frown on Petunia's face, simply glad to be off the plane, and back home.

You couldn't get rid of the smile off his face with a cutting torch and explosives.

'Sure the "Magic" show was fun, but the Mustang ranch had been even more of an exciting trip. Not to mention the parade of different soiled doves that had come to the room every night of the almost week long trip to the States and the City of Sin.' thought Vernon with a smirk.

'And to think, there was actually another show coming up in January where all the latest gadgetry and high tech devices were showcased. And located next door was the skin trade's annual trade show and awards. Have to figure out a way to get Grunnings to foot the bill for that one as well.' schemed Vernon.

'After all, Tuney is a good mother and all, not too bad between the sheets, but merciful heavens what those wonderful tarnished angels were willing to do for him!'

Suddenly Vernon's nose crinkled. It appeared that his boy had decided to give his father a welcome home present as well. Perhaps if he changed the diaper, and took it out with the trash, he could manage to talk Petunia into a more enjoyable welcome home present as well. After all, as the Blackstone bloke had said, "A sucker is born every minute". Vernon certainly was willing to put a few minutes of effort into proving that true tonight. With that, Vernon went about the heinous chore of changing the foul nappy, and taking out the trash. Judging from the look of surprise on Petunia's face, he was already moving in the right direction to prove that quote true. Perhaps he might just make her knickers disappear tonight!

Imagine his surprise when he found another present sitting on his doorstep in middle of the night on that cold November morning. Setting the trash to the side, he bent down, and saw a note addressed to his wife, sitting on the small shivering form of a child. What kind of monsters would leave a child sitting on a doorstep in the nearly freezing temperatures with little more than a blanket on them? Preposterous!

He read the note and winced, it appeared that Petunia's sister and husband had been murdered, and they were being tasked with the care of the poor boy. Well, no use for it, it seemed he would not be getting to dine at the Y tonight after all. It had been a shock to him, just how enjoyable an activity it was, and judging by the fact that one of the whores had brought back two friends the following night, he had quite the knack for it. They had kept tittering about wanting another "Mustache Ride" the entire time. The appreciation of the women was nothing short of paradigm shattering. Which was one more reason he was in such a happy and upbeat mood.

Shrugging his shoulders, he went ahead and took out the trash, then picked up the basket, carrying it into his house. Perhaps he might work in some life affirming sex if he played his cards right tonight after all. Stiff upper lip, and todger, the British way after all. A little comforting, and once the lads were settled and asleep, he could reaffirm their survival?

The next morning, Vernon Dursley blearily awoke to the dim sounds of crying children. Wincing as he got out of bed, he tried to get his brain running in something resembling coherency, and dismiss the ringing in his ears. Reaching up to the scratch his head, he felt what appeared to be a bald spot on the side of his head. In shock he stumbled to the bathroom, looking into the mirror in shock.

Looking back at him was a man who looked like he had been wrestling tigers all night. He had several tufts of hair missing, a blood encrusted nose, and a rather severely split lip. His face was covered in a combination of what looked like donut glaze and lipstick. There were hickeys, and what appeared to be teeth marks all over his neck and shoulders. His todger appeared to be comatose, and luckily, rather undamaged, just exhausted. He shook his head in wonder and turned to wake Tuney to deal with the shrieking infants when he noticed his back. Between the rugburn and fiery scratches liberally applied to his back, he expected to be sleeping on his stomach for the next few days.

Walking back into the bedroom, he noticed that the room looked as if a bomb had gone off. The lamp on the nightstand was broken, there were cracks and several dents in the wall over the headboard, and the mattress on the bed was turned diagonally, half off the bedsprings. The sight of Tuney's bare red arse sticking up in the air, with her head hanging off the bed was both amusing, and arousing at the same time. Unfortunately, between the crying children, and the stupor his wedding tackle was in, that would have to wait. He walked over, and placed his hand on Petunia's arse and gently rearranged her back on the bed. Tossing a light sheet over her, he smiled to himself. Apparently, he had learned very well in Las Vegas, as Tuney was in even worse shape than him. He chuckled at his wife, as she mumbled something in her sleep. Shoving the mattress back onto the frame with his legs, he winced. Looking down, he saw that his knees were in even worse shape than his back. Luckily, he had been given the next few days off, to adjust thanks to the time difference, and his stellar performance at the trade show. He should be able to stretch that out a bit due to the family death and new addition to the family dynamic. Now to see to the children, and see about something to eat, and hopefully some more sleep.

"Ohhhhh, Verrrrnon!" purred Petunia, undulating under the thin sheet. As she moaned, she rolled onto her back, letting the sheet drop down, and exposing her breasts. Watching her nipples harden, and somewhat surprised at feeling a slight stirring in his groin, he readjusted his plan for the day along with his revived todger.

A quick change of nappies, two bottles of milk for the toddlers, and Vernon was headed back to his needy wife's arms. He would deal with the long term new addition to the family afterwards. Not a bad child after all, quite the mop for hair, compared to Dudder's bald little head, but his eyes seemed to be bright and alert. The fact that he actually smiled and nodded at Vernon's instructions to lay down, drink his bottle said he was well behaved. He actually helped get Dudley to behave and lay down too. Shame about his parents, hopefully there was something left to help take care of the child for the future. If not though, Vernon could make things stretch, especially if he kept turning up new accounts and growing the business like he had been. The Vice President of Sales had pulled him aside at one of the clubs, and given him encouragement that he was the right sort, and he was on the upward path.

The fact he had kept the horny, drunken old bastard out of jail after he had smacked that one tart's arse a bit too firmly, causing a rip roaring brawl in the club, hadn't hurt his chances either he supposed.

Smiling as he climbed back into bed, he thought all things considered, life was turning up for the Dursley family.

* * *

Scene break- not sure how much I want to put pre-Hogwarts, leaning towards just a few highlights.

Harry looked down at the "Illusionists Kit" his cousin had given up on rather quickly. Uncle Vernon had been trying to encourage Dudley to play with the kit, but he was very busy thanks to the promotion and long hours he was working. Dudley had shown some mild interest, but his thick fingers simply did not have the dexterity required. He started reading the instruction booklet, and began absently rolling the included coin back and forth over his knuckles. Some of the tricks seemed simple enough, but as his Uncle was so fond of saying, "The effect is what counts, the methods are secondary." So he would practice, and become an Illusionist to make sure his Uncle got his Aston Martins to appear in his driveway, just like he had said to Dudley when he first gave him the set as part of the peace offering every traveling salesman brought home to the children.

* * *

A/N: So, this could be quite the fun little story. However, as I write it, I keep going back and forth on where I take it. Part of me wants to make it fun, but part of me finds Harry becoming an asshole, or even a little too cocky. I am torn on how I want to take it, and if I want to go realistic to some degree or really go off the rails with an Illusionist who can do **_REAL_** Magic. I would appreciate comments or suggestions, as if you read some of my other stuff, I like twisting the characters within canon quite a bit. I just can't decide which way to take this. It will probably be my next fic after Unmentionables.

Maybe. :)

Funny Semi Off Topic note? I literally ended up going to Vegas 2 weeks after I wrote this on a sudden business trip. No Mustang Ranch or soiled doves for me, but I did have an amazing night at the craps tables. I had never been a fan, but ended up playing till for several hours on a starting $20, and ended up a few hundred up after tips and such. Funny how life imitates fanfic huh?


	11. The Boy's got Style

A/N: This is just an Omake to Clell's amazing The Elder Sect. If you haven't read this yet, stop now, and go read it. Clell has Harry being raised by Samantha from Bewitched. Amazing stuff, and what led to this.

Basically, during the Troll scene, Harry gives the female Troll a perfectly matched outfit and shoes, that causes OTHER women to compliment her on the fit and how it complements her color. Frankly, this just proves how sadistic Clell is, as he basically dooms Harry even worse than the prophecy or Dumbledore ever could.

* * *

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I make nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing**!"

* * *

Sirius was casually walking the halls of Hogwarts, heading to the room the male prefect had directed him to, checking in on his godson. Something about Harry wasn't allowed to leave. As he got nearer, he saw a line of attractive females impatiently waiting for something, comparing binders and giggling.

'Must be career counseling day or something.' thought Sirius remembering the horrors of learning he would be expected to "contribute to our society and get a steady, paying job'.

With a shiver, Sirius shook like a wet dog, much preferring his current role as foot warmer, and pool boy for Samantha's lovey sister.

As he walked along, he noticed a starry eyed Draco standing in line, eagerly gesturing and talking about Italian Corinthian leather with coordinating something or other.

Goodness, but this was a long line.

Finally he came to the room he had been searching for, just as the door opened and a flushed young witch came bounci...bouncy...bouncy...bouncy...bouncy...

Sirius shook his head trying to clear the distracting images. Err, well that witch certainly seemed happy, and judging by the hug she had given Sirius, quite aroused.

He started to knock on the door, when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder, spinning him about.

"No cutsies!" Hissed a stunning blonde, shaking a small numbered slip of paper in his face. "I've been waiting in this line for two days for my time with Harry, and nobody is getting any before I do!"

Sirius blinked. 'Thank Merlin! I was so worried that the Elder blood would overpower his inner Marauder! James would be so proud!' thought Sirius with a salacious grin.

With a quick wiggle and twitch of his wand, he conjured a steaming pizza box behind his back, and a delivery cap upon his head. Showing the witch the box, he explained, "Sorry, ma'am. I have a delivery for Mr. Potter here. Lad's got to keep his strength up for all you ladies after all. Wouldn't want to wear the chap out would you?"

The blonde gasped covering her mouth, as tears sprung to her eyes. "Heavens, we can't risk that! The man is a godsend! A treasure to women everywhere! You go right on in, um, could you save me a slice though? For afters? I wanted to look my best for my time with him, so I haven't been eating for the past two days."

Sirius jaw nearly dropped, before smoothly assuring her he would be glad to save her a slice with extra sausage.

No reason Sirius couldn't cash in on a witches' happiness and afterglow after all. In Sirius' mind there was no such thing as sloppy seconds, merely proven wells. He thought for a moment about Samantha's sister, and wondered if she would be in the mood for a pizza buffet.

Sirius smiled as he entered the room, setting the pizza box on a convenient side table with a purse already on it, calling out to Harry. "Nice setup you've got here Prongslet, lots of mirrors, and soft jazz playing. Excellent lighting, I have to admit I am impressed. Bit much for me, I've always preferred the classics myself. Simple and cheap, the old pizza delivery wizard has given me great success." chided Sirius, fondly remembering past house witches and exclusive private parties he had crashed.

"Sirius! Help me! I can't take any more of this!" whimpered Harry from the chair directly in front of the mirrors.

Sirius shook his head, raw talent and youth were all fine and good, but experience and staying power were what won the witch. "No worries pup! I'll be glad to sub in for you while you take a break. Which witch are you working on now?"

"Oh, no you don't Mr. Black! I have been patiently waiting for my time with Mr. Potter here, and I will not accept your shoddy wand work, and lack of attention on my delicates!" Hissed Minerva McGonagal.

Sirius looked to the witch coming out behind the changing screen and his godson, who he now realized was literally chained to the dingy chair facing the bank of multiple mirrors.

Sirius turned slightly green, whined as he swallowed a bit of bile, and proceeded to pass out in shock.

Harry merely hung his head, and whimpered.

"Now Mr. Potter, I think I would like a lighter shade of pink here, not too much rose, but with a bit of opalescence. Make sure you get the lacework right, and please make sure the straps aren't unflattering to my body type." explained the Deputy Headmistress, as she turned back and forth in front of the mirrors, examining her sun dress as critically as any NEWT transfiguration project.

Harry shook his head.

Why had he ever listened and given that damnable troll an outfit. No wonder Darren always gave Samantha a gift card, and scheduled his business trips around the major sales.

* * *

A/N: Let's face it. A wizard who could give a woman the perfect outfit with matching shoes with merely a thought? The poor bastard would never see the light of day again.


	12. The Tom and Harry Show!

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! _**Nothing!**_"

* * *

A/N: Not my fault! This one had been bouncing or I suppose hopping around in my head for a while. All this talk of plot bunnies. Then Herman Tumbleweed and Ralph had to instigate...

* * *

Harry Potter sat clutching his broken arm, whimpering in the farthest corner of his cupboard under the stairs. He knew that his Uncle could drag him out, and the beating would be even worse for making his uncle crawl in after him. But he liked to think this gave him at least some small bit of control over his miserable life. When you get a beating no matter what, every second you can delay it, is like an eternity. Harry continued to rock back and forth, wishing with all his might, that he could be somewhere, anywhere else.

A rumbling noise broke the late night stillness.

If one happened to be outside on this late July evening, they would see the odd sign of a mound of dirt coming from the west, Wandering about aimlessly, leaving a trail of broken earth wherever it went. Yards were destroyed, flower gardens ruined, and quite a bit of taxpayer monies wasted as the road itself was broken up by this mysterious mobile mound.

Which suddenly, stopped and took a hard left towards Number 4 Privet Drive.

Vernon Dursley was luckily asleep, or he would have been screaming in frustration at the wreckage his front yard was becoming. Even more so as the mound went directly underneath his new car, causing one wheel to fall into the resulting ditch, snapping a strut, causing the vehicle to list badly.

The mound went to the front door, overturning the front step, and knocking the front door off the hinges. The mound went to the kitchen, ripping the carpet in the living room up as it passed, causing the tile to pop loose, and the dining room table to fall to the floor, and split as it too fell victim to the wandering mound.

Harry was the only one up, and was quite curious to know what was happening outside his small domain. He closed his eyes, praying it wasn't the bogeyman freaks come to take him away and eat him, as Uncle had frequently threatened.

The door to his cupboard suddenly cracked and popped, only being held on now by the lock tenaciously keeping it shut.

Harry watched in awe as the mound opened into a dark hole, and the remains of a few carrots and a trunk came flying out, crowding the small space.

A pair of long, grey, furry ears slowly came into sight, spiraling as they rose.

Harry merely looked on, befuddled at the sight of a large grey rabbit, staring at him, casually eating a rabbit with a white gloved hand.

"Huh! *Crunch, Crunch* Guess I took a wrong turn at Poughkipskie," shrugged the rabbit. "Hey Kid! Where are we? This doesn't look anything like Monaco!" asked the grey, _**talking!**_ rabbit that had suddenly appeared in the young boy's cupboard.

Harry blinked, and responded, "My cupboard sir." One could never be too polite, as his Uncle had frequently beat into him, and who knew what a talking rabbit would do to a rude little boy.

The grey rabbit squinted at Harry, scratching behind his ear with his carrot. "No need to call me sir, kid! That's only a part I play occasionally, you can call me Bugs!" explained the rabbit, reaching out his white gloved hand to shake. "What's your name, squirt?"

Harry had never been so glad to have gone to school in his life, for if he hadn't, he wouldn't have known his own name. Squirt and kid were much better than boy, brat, freak, or heathen godforsaken devilspawn of course, but now that he knew his name, he wanted to share it with this new acquaintance.

"Harry, Harry Potter" replied the small boy reaching out with his left hand to shake Bugs' right hand awkwardly.

Bugs tilted his head to look at Harry, noticing how he was cradling his right arm tightly to his chest, and saw the dried tear tracks, cuts and bruises on the boy's face in the dim light of the cupboard. This would simply not do! People were supposed to laugh and be happy, not be sad and cry. Well, he knew how to turn a crowd right around.

Bugs promptly drove his forehead into the underside of the stair step in front of him, causing the room to brighten as stars and moons began to circle his head, as he fell to the floor, causing his trunk to fall on his hand, crushing it flat, in classic pratfall # 27. Imagine his displeasure when instead of a laugh, he heard the boy gasp, and move to his side.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. Bunny, it's much too cramped in here, you have to be careful, my Uncle will hear you, and be very upset at the noise. You should leave, let me help you up." whispered the boy, kneeling besides Bugs.

Bugs looked at Harry in shock, as he saw the boy drop to his bloody knees on the hard wooden floor, and use both arms to try and lift him up and straighten him out. Bugs was silent, knowing the boy's arm was broken, and he seemed to be in a great deal of pain, but was still quiet as a mouse, with barely a grimace to show for it.

This kid had a high pain tolerance, something any performer needed to succeed in his business. He could work with this kid, now to see if he could laugh.

Bugs raised his pancaked hand to lay on Harry's shoulder. The boy gasped, realizing what had happened, and started to apologize.

Bugs laughed, and said, "No worries Harry, watch!"

Bugs proceeded to stick his thumb in his mouth, and inflated his hand, and then shook it out, returning it to normal with a flourish.

Harry's eyes widened as he giggled. "Wish I could do that!" said the boy.

Bugs merely shrugged, "Old trade secret, it's easy though once you know how." He then gently took the boys right hand, placed the index finger into his mouth and proceeded to inflate the boy's entire arm.

Harry looked on in wonder as his whole body seemed to be filled with a wonderful energy, and his arm straightened, and slightly swelled.

"Alright now Harry, just shake your whole body like a wet dog shaking off water!" explained Bugs.

Harry looked at Bugs somewhat doubtfully, but proceeded to shake himself firmly. Not only did his arm heal, but his torn, bloody clothes changed into a comfortable pair of red footed pajamas with a hood. The flap in the back was a bit odd, but a great improvement over his previous attire. He reached up, feeling a pair of bunny ears of his own, and giggled once more. Turning to look at the flap, he realized he now had a fluffy white tail as well.

"There we go Harry! What say we blow this Popsicle stand, and you come with me for a while? We'll have a blast. Whatta ya say, squirt?" asked Bugs with a smile.

Harry squinted at Bugs. "Well, OK, but no more of this kid, or squirt stuff, my name's Harry." said the boy with a smile.

"Fair enough Harry. Shake on it, and off we go!" said Bugs reaching out with his right hand.

Harry smiled, grabbing the rabbit by the glove, and was promptly shocked into unconsciousness.

Bugs laughed, saying "Ain't I a stinker!", before tossing the boy into the hole, jumping in himself, and then a grey arm reached out of the hole, feeling about for a moment, before it grabbed the trunk, dragging it into the hole after him.

The mound of dirt then made several widening circles of the house, knocking over the refrigerator, the television, and bursting most of the pipes in the house, along with severely damaging the foundation in general. The mound then seemed to stop, double back and head in a generally south eastern direction, flipping the car entirely over on the way.

When the Dursley's rose the next morning, it would be several days before they even realized Harry was gone, as they were so wrapped up with their own problems.

The neighbor, Mrs. Figg couldn't get her cats to leave the tree they were in, and kept complaining about finding bear traps and cream pies all over her house, along with an infestation of small brown mice.

A/N: This has a high probability of continuation, just because I love the idea of what a Toontown raised magical Harry Potter would do to canon. As always let me know what you think, and if I should continue this, or just leave it as a one shot.


	13. Propogation

A/N: Just a quick bunny thanks to Coach Granger by Luan Mao-it's just getting started, but has quite an interesting Hermione. I haven't made up my mind about her just yet, but I'd be interested to see what you think of this Hermione.

* * *

In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):

"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! **Nothing!**"

* * *

Idea: In many fics, Hermione makes a comment that Harry needs to have children with as many witches as possible. Here's what happens when a logical witch gets an idea in her head.

Time and Place: 6th year, Room of Requirement, after a preliminary meeting of the DA to discuss their options.

"Harry, I've been thinking," said Hermione, twisting a strand of hair around her finger nervously.

Harry shivered, wondering just how much trouble or studying his best friend was about to get him into. Perhaps he could distract her, or at least delay if not derail her train of thought?

"Me too, but I am not sure of the optimal positioning for a five-some, I mean a threesome, easy enough, a foursome, everyone can pair off, but that fifth person kind of is just a floater or reliever don't you think?" Explained Harry, smiling inwardly, fully expecting Hermione to at least single phase, giving him the chance to scamper.

He didn't expect her to swat him almost immediately, thinking his reflexes and Hermione's shock would give him time to gain a safe distance.

"Prat. Daisy chain would be the standard, followed by Hub and Spoke, with some more esoteric options depending on flexibility, in regards to both physical and sexual preferences," lectured Hermione with only the slightest of blushes.

Harry gawked openly. He had firmly realized Hermione was a girl first year. Not like he had gone into the boy's loo after the girl during the troll incident. He had however, realized that Hermione was turning into quite the attractive woman in third year. Having her breasts smashed and then poking him in the back had given him quite the "firm" confirmation of that as well. It seemed that Hippogriffs were just as effective as Sirius had said motorcycles were in arousing witches.

Harry had long ago come to the realization and understanding of just what Hermione was, even if his rather thick, semi friend was only just now really starting to get a dim glimmer of the fact.

Frankly, unless the berk discovered manners, and personal hygiene rather quickly, that was about as much understanding of the female species he was likely to get.

Harry however, while having rather frequent, hopeful, and lewd daydreams, thoughts, and hopefully not impacting his already poor eyesight relaxation sessions about Hermione since third year; came to quite a startling realization.

Hermione Granger was a kinky little minx!

One more thank you to Sirius for suggesting that smart, muggleborn witches tended to be much more rewarding pursuits than the standard, uptight pureblood witch who thought showing her ankles was risque.

"...I really think that we need to do everything we can to guarantee the Potter line continues, and that we need to add as many divergences from the main line as possible to ensure propagation of your talents, and hopefully the maximum benefit to the rather stagnant pureblood gene pool, along with hopefully generating a significant up tick in the numbers of magical births in the non magical side as well. Don't you agree Harry?" Asked Hermione, reading from her presentation notes, as she went along with the projected pensieve presentation. The fact her memories were presented in bullet point was somehow not surprising.

'Merlin! Is Hermione really saying that she wants me to shag a bunch of witches and regular women?' Thought Harry, blinking in shock. He was still rather confused as to how he had gone from joking around with Hermione, to sitting at a conference table, with a presentation being projected via a pensieve, along with a leather bound hard copy of the presentation, along with supporting documentation and bibliography.

Served him right for perving out on his best friend. Every time he did so, it led to him being in these sorts of situations.

Third year, he had been staring at her bum when Malfoy was attacked by Buckbeak. Fourth he had been watching her lips when he had his name ejected from the goblet. Fifth year, he had been nodding along, watching her cleavage jiggle, as she leaned over to whisper and gesture frantically about defense and their OWLs.

Which led to him agreeing to the whole blasted DA thing.

Really, he should have just called it Dumb Arses. What the hell had he been thinking, painting a bigger target on his sorry arse that year. Of course, there had been some side benefits to being the recognized expert on DADA.

Having a flushed witch pressed up against him, as she tried to coordinate her wand motions, foot placement, breath control, and posture had been quite a pleasant experience.

Of course, as with anything else, his hormones had been his downfall.

He had been behind Hermione, with his arms wrapped around her and quite amazed at her firm bum wiggling against him, trying to teach her the Patronus, when the toad bitch and her carrion flies had discovered the DA.

Was it really his fault that he didn't notice the pounding on the entrance as Umbitch broke the door down? Not like he could hear a thing with the blood pounding in his ears and the throbbing in his  
pants.

"So what do you think Harry? I know it's rather unorthodox, and many people would frown on it. However, when you combine the muggle DNA sequencing methods available with some of the more acceptable Pureblood potions for preventing inbreeding issues, I don't think we have anything to worry about on that aspect. Of course, there is the risk of multiple births with that method, but I truly think getting your seed in as many wombs as quickly as possible means this is the best and most efficient option." Said Hermione, ending her presentation on a QUESTIONS? Pensieve Projected memory image.

'Damnation! There he went again. How was he supposed to be the Chosen one, when he couldn't even focus for more than fifteen seconds at a time? Blasted hormones! And when the bloody hell had Hermione changed into that sexy business suit combo with such a sexy skirt? Were those stockings she was wearing? Merlin, but she looked smoking hot with her hair up in a bun, and those high heeled black shoes she was wearing were pure sin, he could just imagine what they would feel like,  
digging into his back, with her legs wrapped around... BLOODY WANKING  
HELL! Focus Potter!'

Shaking his head, he quickly flipped a few pages in the presentation, trying not to pay attention to the way Hermione was nervously chewing her succulent bottom lip. Moist, soft, plump lips perfect for...

'DAMN IT!' Thought the last Potter.

'Ok, muggle women, witches, goodness but that was a nearly exponential growth in the branches of his family tree. It appeared Hermione wanted to make him the one wizard father of a new magical baby boom.' Thought Harry looking at how his family tree virtually exploded with new branches.

"Well, duty to god and country after all. I'll do it Hermione!" exclaimed Harry, closing the binder, and pushing back the chair before carefully standing up from his chair.

He'd learned his lesson about suddenly standing up from a table while wearing baggy clothes quite early, thank you very much!

Hermione squeed, jumping happily, before catching herself, clearing her throat, and straightening her outfit.

She looked down, smirking before sliding a document across the table for Harry. "Well, since you are already prepared to go to work, simply sign the confidentiality agreement, the hold harmless form, and the prospectus and we can get started on the first batch Harry." explained Hermione, leaning across the table as she pulled a golden Mont Blanc pen from where she had stashed it in inside her jacket.

Harry goggled, watching as Hermione produced a gold pen from her heaving cleavage as she leaned across the table. He had always been amazed at how she could speak so long without taking a breath, but it did have some amazing side effects now that she had developed.

'First BATCH! Merlin, he figured he would at least have be with Hermione first, or a single witch at a time, maybe go on a few dates, or at least meet the woman before going straight to shagging. Guess  
she wasn't kidding about efficiency after all!' thought Harry,absently signing the documents Hermione had placed in front of him, that were charmed to glow where ever his signature or initials were  
required.

With a flourish, Harry signed the last page, shaking the slight cramp out, as he tried to inconspicuously adjust himself.

"Excellent Harry, now come right this way, and we can get started. I had the room already prepared, and everything should be ready. No worries now, you just do as many as you can this first time. We'll  
gradually build up your endurance, and daily frequency over time. Pretty soon, we'll have you at it like a regular assembly line. We'll see how things go naturally at first, but if needs be, there are potions, magical and muggle methods that can help us meet quotas." said Hermione, ushering Harry through a plain white door.

Harry blinked, not seeing a bevy of naked witches, lounging about and ready to ravish him as he hoped, but rather a single red plastic chair, with a simple wooden table next to it. On the table were several small plastic cups with lids on them. He picked one up, examining it, seeing Potter, H written in black marker in Hermione's neat handwriting on the side. He set the cup down, noticing a basket underneath the table, filled with an assortment of womens' clothing catalogs.

Harry blinked, "HERMIONE! Get in here!"

Hermione opened the door looking rather pleased. "Finished already Harry? Do you need more cups?"

Harry glared at his friend, and growled out, "What the hell is this!" Thrusting the witches' catalog at Hermione with a shaking hand.

"Well, I wasn't sure what would work best, so I figured we'd start plain and work our way up. Ginny told me that Ron preferred the catalogs, so I took some of Lavender and Parvati's. I'm pretty sure  
there are some lingerie pages in there if you need something more racy. Although, I suppose the Room could provide more, exotic reading material after all. I just never figured you for that sort. But if  
that's what it takes, so be it. It's for a good cause, after all. I promise I won't think poorly of you Harry." soothed Hermione.

"Exotic! Hermione, I haven't even been with a witch before! What am I supposed to do with these?" asked a blushing Harry picking up a plastic cup and thrusting it in her face.

"Well, you're supposed to wank in them silly! How else did you expect us to collect your semen for submission to the facilities?" asked Hermione with a raised eyebrow, as she crossed her arms.

Harry's jaw dropped, looking at Hermione in shock. "W-w-wank in them? How am I going to have kids by doing that in a cup? I know a lot of what Sirius said was hogwash, but I am pretty sure having sprogs involves a wizard and a witch! This isn't what they mean when they say a wand and a cauldron can cook up a baby Hermione!" hissed Harry.

Hermione looked at Harry, "Honestly Harry! Didn't you pay any attention at all to the presentation Harry? The most efficient way to ensure we have sufficient distribution is through a sperm bank.  
Actually having intercourse with that many women is just not feasible Harry! I mean, you'd be shagging all day, you wouldn't even have time for classes Harry!" gasped Hermione, looking horrified.

"Well, yeah! That's part of the reason I agreed. I mean, I have no problem wanking, but I'd much rather have a witch involved. The getting paid to shag part was just gravy!" explained Harry.

"Oh, there will be no more random wanking for you Mr Potter! That's like throwing away money for the war effort! You'll only be wanking into approved collection devices now!" Clucked Hermione.

Harry growled,"What! I'm not going to be wanking in cups all day long Hermione!"

"Actually, you will, as you signed a contract stating you would provide at least 5 samples a day. Didn't you read the contract at all Harry? You agreed to provide services to our business, 'Collection of Unique Magical Biologicals Arranged by Granger', in perpetuem, or until Voldemort, or yourself are deceased. I spelled everything out quite simply in the presentation, and you had the business prospectus right in front of you. I thought you agreed after all, you kept nodding, smiling and saying duty." explained Hermione.

Harry simply hung his head and sighed. Curse his hormones!

"Fine. Give me the cup Hermione."

* * *

A/N: Just a quick poke at all the harem fics where harry has to shag every witch for the power of love, especially where Hermione decides that Harry needs as many witches as possible to gain power.

And just a quick OMAKE relating to Hermione's POV during a specific scene where she was talking about multiple births:

'Stupid, smarmy, uptight hags! Call me an uppity, fat, bucktoothed bitch will they? Let's see how they like being nothing more than bitches themselves! See if you can be so perky titted and tight arsed after having 6 or 8 babies come out your fannies. Those perky boobs will be dragging at their ankles like udders after I am through with them!' cackled Hermione, as she modified Harry's samples for Narcissa Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and every other witch and muggle who had earned a spot on her list.

* * *

Um, yeah. Just as a side note, I am currently on STRONG antibotics for my severe bronchitis. The first one they gave me was doxycycline that  
is what they use to treat anthrax. That didn't work so they went to a stronger one, with a 500 mg dose. The side effects are hearing voices,  
tendon tearing, and hallucinations.

So DFCP is very accurate right now.

And I apologize in advance for any of the crazy stuff that happens to show up.

Well, crazier than normal. :)

At any rate, I am curious what people thought of this Hermione? Manipulative Shrew, or simply trying to do what she thought was best in regards to logic and efficiency. Bear in mind she did spell everything out to Harry, and he signed willingly. Leading to lots of Potter sprogs, as well as money for the war chest.

Now the real question? Is she aware of what she is doing to Harry, and using that to her advantage, or is Harry just easily distracted by anything female? Review, and we can discuss in PM's. ;)


End file.
